Stack my sandwich with meat that's good,
lettuce, tomato, onions and mayo,
spread the dressings to entice my mood.
Slice the masterwich into,
use a sharp pen of write,
make it a joy to read till through.
Hungry for nourishment in sight,
my soul needs the joy of verse,
delicious words of tasty delight.

Dined and full of reading joy,
enticing my soul to its core,
there is no way one couldn't enjoy.
As I rest my head to sleep,
my dreams so wonderful,
pray to Lord your writewich to keep.

From sunrise to sunset,
also inbetween times of drift,
a fully nourished mind will not forget.
In seeking out fulfilment of aura,
the interior light of shine,
back to your writewich so superior.

Oh boy,
writings
of joy.

G